Anonymus Memories
by bubblemunch123
Summary: Darkness. This darkness consumed her. Ate at her very being. She was lost in this darkness. But then there was a light. Glowing. Dim. Soft. But still this light was present. And with this light came memories, that unbeknownst to Ally Dawson, were not hers. In fact, these memories did not belong to anyone.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Darkness.

This darkness consumed her. Ate at her very being. She was lost in this darkness. But then there was a light. Glowing. Dim. Soft. But still this light was present. And with this light came memories, that unbeknownst to Ally Dawson, were not hers.

In fact, these memories did not belong to anyone. They were made up. Falsified. Figments of the imagination. But to the brunette in a coma, they were so vivid. So real. So normal. Then, she woke up.

**Ally's P.O.V.**

Pain.

That was the first thing I felt. My mind was registering it very quickly. Overwhelmingly. It felt like somebody was sawing at, drilling holes into, and hammering nails into my head, all at the same time. I moved slightly. It was excruciating. I would have screamed had by throat not been so dry. My ribs felt broken, but I could feel the wrappings around my torso that were supposed to help the healing process. I could also feel the cast on my left arm and the splint on the middle and ring finger on my right hand.

That was good. Me being a righty, these broken fingers wouldn't hinder me from writing in my book. My book. Would this be an entry or what? That was when I wondered. What would I be entering in my book? What had happened? How did it happen? Where am I? How did I get here?

These questions and a million more flooded my brain. That was when I noticed the light. I don't know how I didn't notice it before. I was Ally Dawson. I was always observant. This white light seared through my eyelids. Then I noticed the sounds too. _Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep_. God was that annoying. Almost as annoying as Austin poking me.

Austin.

Trish.

Dez.

Dad.

Remembering the most important people in my life made me want to find out what had happened even more. So I tried hard to focus on my senses. I felt a soft bed beneath me. A barely-there piece of fabric lightly covering from my neck to mid-thigh. A hospital gown no doubt. Needles. Needles that poked into the veins of my arm's inner elbow. These needles supplied medication, blood, and various other things I needed to stay alive. I felt breathing tubes connected to my nose, supplying desperately needed oxygen. I felt a bandage wrapped around my head, that seemed like the worst of all the damage that had been ravaged upon my body, I could feel it.

That was when I started hearing more that just the incessant beeping of the machine that was no doubt measuring my heart rate. I heard a telephone ringing in the distance. I heard the murmurs of doctors discussing various treatments. I heard the crying of those who probably just receive the most devastating news of their lives. I remember hearing news like that. When I was informed that my mother's plane went down in the Amazon; after two years in the Peace Corps. Penny Dawson never made it home to her eight-year-old daughter.

That was when she heard it. A voice. Not just any voice, but the voice of her father, Lester Dawson.

"Do you really think she'll ever wake up? I mean it's been three months Penny. Do you think we should take her off life support?" Wow. Have I really been out for three months? Think of how much school I missed! Now how am I gonna get into a good college? It'll probably be fine I mean I'm only fifteen right? Wait. If I've been out for three months and I was born March 15 and the last day I remember was Valentine's Day then I'm already sixteen. It also means that sophomore year is almost over. My dad was pretending to talk to my mom again. He always did this when he was stressed or had a tough decision to make. WWPD? What would Penny do? This didn't phase me at all. What did phase me was when another voice responded.

"I don't know Lester. I really don't know."

Mom?

At this I finally opened my eyes.

In chairs near the foot of my bed sat my parents deep in conversation. Obviously contemplating one of the biggest decisions of their lives. Would they kill off they're only child? They didn't have much of a choice now seeing how I'm alive. I didn't really want to hear they're decision on the matter because I didn't want to detest them if they some how came to the conclusion it was the time to take me off life support. So I spoke up.

"Mom? Dad?"

My parents looked over to me. Their eyes instantly turned from ones of sadness and despair to the ones of people who just won a Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes **(1)** or had their only daughter come out of a coma.

My parents rushed to either side of my hospital bed. Both crying their eyes out. Happy tears. Probably the first happy tears they've shed in over three months. Although I loved my dad, I only looked at my mom. Iris's stormed over with confusion. So I asked the question.

"Mom… how are you hear?" At this my moms eyes clouded over with a confusion similar to mine.

"What do you mean sweetie?"

"You died eight years ago," I stated simply. There was no point in beating around the bush. It was a simple fact. The women kneeling before me now was supposed to be dead. Only then did I realize how I sounded. "Not that I don't love that you're alive again, but how?"

At this, my mother exchanged a glance with my father across my broken body.

"Honey do you really not remember?"

"No. I vividly recall dad getting a phone call that you're plane had crashed in the Amazon when you were flying home from the Peace Corps. when I was eight." Another worried glance.

"Honey, I never went into the Peace Corps."

"Yes you did."

"Ally, you know your mother would never set foot in somewhere so germ infested, dirty, and gross. If she can't wear her 5 inch platform pumps somewhere, she's not going," my dad interjected. What the hell is he talking about? My mother had the worst balance in they world. She would break her ankle with less grace then a drunken wildebeest. This was wear my mom spoke up.

"Ally-cat, the doctor said that after the accident you might have some brain damage, memory loss. We should probably go get him."

"WAIT!" I exclaimed, at this my mother turned around, her hand resting upon the rooms handle, "what happened?" My mom looked to my father at this. He always had been a great storyteller.

"Ally, it was Valentine's Day," my dad started, at least I had that memory right, "Dallas was walking you home from your date," WAIT WHAT!? Why was I on a date with Dallas?! Not that I was complaining, that boy was hot as hell, "when you crossed the street over to our house, some drunken college kids rounded the corner top speed and hit you head on," I cringed. No wonder why I am in so much pain, getting hit by a car now seems like quite a logical explanation to the amount of pain coursing through my veins.

"Wow," was all I could say. How else are you supposed to respond to that? "And I'm still alive? Badass!" I expected my parents to yell at me for cursing. It wasn't something I normally did. But they stared at me like it _was_ normal. Expected even. And with this my mother walked out of the room only to appear moments later with a handsome male doctor.

"Hello Ally, I'm Dr. Sampson," I reached up to shake the man's hand. It hurt a little but the doctor kept a light grip. "I just want to ask you a few questions to see how your memory's doing." I simply nodded in reply. "First, name all immediate family members that you remember to be living when before the accident."

"Lester Dawson."

"Is that it Ally?" The doctor glanced over at my mother who was sitting at a stroller that I didn't register being there before. Was that all?

"Last I remember my mom was dead and I'm an only child." While the doctor kept a poker face, I could see tears spring to my mothers eyes.

"Ally," my father said, "you have a brother." At this my mother slowly spun the stroller around to face me. Seated in the small baby carrying device was a boy appeared to look like the baby in my six-month-old pictures. I gaped.

"How old is he?"

"Seven months," my mother replied. Woah. The silence that overtook the room reeked of awkwardness. The doctor then cleared his throat to continue with next question, most likely in hopes of diffusing some of the uncomfortable tension.

"How old are you?"

"I have to be sixteen at this point right?"

"That's right. Good. Any pets?"

"My bird, Owen." I saw my parents slightly smile. I knew I was getting these questions right.

"Close friends?"

"That's easy my best friends are Austin Moon, Trish de la Rosa, and Dez Worthy!" Now my parents were back to frowning. I frowned back at them. "What?"

"Ally," my mom said, "Trish is your best friend and Dallas is your boyfriend, but I have never heard of these Austin and Dez people."

Oh no.

**(1)** $5000 a week for life


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Ally's P.O.V.**

My mind was racing. What did she mean she had never heard of Austin or Dez? Austin's an internet sensation, Dez is his director, Trish is his manager, and I'm his songwriter. Team Austin! How could she not remember? Unless…

"Did I make up that memory, too?" My heart was pounding at this point. The beeping got faster.

"I don't know," the doctor said in reply. Wow. What a helpful guy, "but we should probably run some tests. Mr. and Mrs. Dawson if you could please step out of the room." My parents did as they were told and for the rest of the day doctors came in and out of my hospital room. Performing tests, asking me questions, whispering big words in hushed tones. They kept on poker faces they entire time, just like the doctor who had questioned me earlier. At some point, amongst the flurry of activity, I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up in the car.

"Good morning, honey. You were sleeping so soundly at the hospital we didn't want to wake you," My mom said.

"Where are we going?" I moaned groggily in reply. The sun pierced my eyes as I found the clock on the cars dashboard. Eleven o'clock. Too early. Too bright. Too everything.

"Were going home, Allyson, were going home."

Home. What was home anymore? Was my house the same house in my mind? Was my room the same? In my mind my room was a soothing blue-grey, covered in inspirational quotes and song lyrics written by Team Austin. My bed was simple and white on a raised platform, like a puffy cloud in a blue afternoon sky. I was an expert cloud watcher—club president in fact, unless that part was a dream, too.

The car pulled up to our house. The exterior was the same as I had remembered. A standard suburban brick house with black shutters, a manicured lawn, and a white picket fence surrounding the property. It was cliché, I know, but it was home and that's what made it special. I slowly moved out of the back seat of the White 2012 Ford Explorer. I was sore—my head absolutely killed, and the casts and bandages were hard to maneuver with. I tried not to move my ribs and twist my torso so much, but it was extremely difficult. I finally managed to get out of the car and my feet hit pavement as I slowly trudged up the driveway.

I looked down at myself. Baggy grey sweatpants, white ribbed tank top, a black bra, and some red Converse. The black bra was classy, but my mom sent my dad home to pack for me, unfortunately boys don't understand bras. I pushed a loose strand of haven't-showered-in-three-months-hair out of my disgusting face and opened the front door. The interior looked the same as I had remembered it, too. The grand foyer with a staircase to the second floor, dining room on the right, formal living room to the left, and a hallway to the rest of the house. I easily found my room, but that was the one detail of the house that was different (besides that fact that the guest bedroom was now a nursery). Instead of my heavenly cloud in the sky, I opened the door to the most stereotypical teenage girl room EVER.

The walls were a hot pink. Everything else was zebra print with hot pink accents. Who the hell designed this room? Oh wait. That was probably me. Well, the other me. As I thought about the other me I came upon some pictures. Instead of tastefully being hung in frames the OCD way I would usually have it they were stuck in the zebra mirror of my zebra vanity, randomly tacked to the wall, and pinned to a corkboard next to my door. I looked at the pictures for some sign—any sign—of Austin, Dez, and my other life.

I scanned the pictures, not really looking at the content, but searching for the quirky red head and super hot blonde rockstar.

"Wait! Did I just think that?" I said to myself aloud. Why would I call Austin hot? I mean apparently we didn't even know each other, maybe he didn't even exist, and I was dating Dallas apparently. Don't get me wrong I had a crush on the cell phone accessory cart guy at one point, but that adolescent crush faded with the words that now reminded me of why I called Austin super hot.

**Flashback** **(No One's P.O.V.)**

"_I'm doing the procedure," said Austin as he threw away his paper crown. His parents were trying to force him to be the mattress prince of Miami and that was something he didn't want. He wanted to live his dream and be a rockstar. He re-tousled his already perfect dirty blonde hair that had been messed up by the crown._

"_Are you sure?" asked Ally tentatively. Her best friend was about to make one of the biggest decisions of his life. This wasn't just something you could flip a coin on. Though he and Dez had tried._

"_Yeah!" Austin said incredulously. Ally of all people had to know that this needed to be done, "I don't wanna be the mattress prince. And singing's my life." Austin sighed at this, it really had become his life since he had stolen Ally Dawson's song and become an overnight internet sensation._

_Ally stood up softly saying, "What if the procedure doesn't work? This could end your career." The chocolate pools of her eyes bore into his hazel ones. Searching. His eyes seemed equally responsive, lovingly boring back into hers._

"_Then either way my career is over," Austin answered in reply. Ally broke the connection of their eyes at this. She glanced at the ground. Heartbroken. Pitiful. Control deprived. That's how Ally felt when she looked at Austin. It was all her fault. If she just hadn't asked him to sign the bridge again everything would have been absolutely fine and this adorable, kind, and talented boy in front of her wouldn't have to be making the toughest decision of his life. Austin didn't know in this one glance that she thought about this so he continued, "I can't believe I might never sing again." If anything this only made Ally feel worse. She looked back up to the despairing boy with shining puppy dog eyes. He looked her straight on and said with a firm tone, "I have to take this chance. I don't know what I would do if I can't sing the songs you write for me."_

_And in that moment Ally Dawson had fallen in love with Austin Moon. No boy had ever been that sweet to her or had said the words that he was saying right now. Her eyes brimmed with happy tears and she smiled as she said, "Thanks Austin." She pulled him into a big hug that was slightly difficult with the height difference between the two partners. Her arms immediately went around his neck while his slowly snaked around her waist while he smiled. Austin then felt something wet drop on to the right shoulder of his shirt. He pulled back from their embrace and looked as a second tear rolled down the fair face of his beloved songwriter._

"_Ally what's—"_

"_Austin I am so sorry. This is all my fault," Ally cried. "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard and if I hadn't you would have been completely fine and able to sing and you wouldn't have to make this decision and—"_

"_Ally it's fine," it was Austin's turn to cut Ally off. He wrapped his left arm around her waist pulling her close while the pad of his right thumb swiped across her cheek to brush away the tears. Ally's breath hitched at this action, and Austin noticed but made no comment as he continued to console her saying, "In fact you probably saved me. If I hadn't discovered the nodules they could have caused way worse problems later on. Now I know that I will be fine, especially with a beautiful angel like you watching over me."_

_Ally's face broke out into a shit-eating grin as she looked her music partner in the eyes seeing the truth behind his words. "Austin you are the best anyone could ever ask for."_

"_I know," replied the blonde cockily. Ally swatted his arm laughing as they released from the embrace they hadn't realized they had kept so long. "I'm gonna go call Dr. Grant."_

**Ally's P.O.V.**

That was when Ally saw it. The photograph that told her that she hadn't imagined the two weird best friends and all the moments they'd shared together. A picture of the sophomore class trip to New York City. In it she made out the faces of Austin and Dez. Except they weren't dressed normally. Or what Ally perceived as normal, for them at least.

Austin wore a gray beanie, hipster glasses, red skinny jeans, a gray v-neck t-shirt, a black cardigan, a red and black checked scarf, and red converse to tie the ensemble together. Dez wore something similar but with a midnight blue fedora replacing the beanie and glasses, a pullover sweater to match, and light gray skinny jeans and scarf, and black dress shoes. Where was the Austin that always more deliciously tight muscle tanks, dog tags, ripped jeans, and high tops? And the Dez that wore horribly mismatched clothing, ugly patterns, clown shoes, and suspenders? She could just tell from the picture that these boys were not who she thought they'd be. She searched the picture again trying to find herself. This surprised her more that Austin and Dez.

There she stood smirking sexily at the camera wearing a zebra top, a tight hot pink mini skirt, high black pumps, dark smokey eye make up, and hair that looked like she had just finished having sex. For all she knew, she could have just been having sex! She didn't know what level of the relationship this girl in the picture was on with Dallas. Speaking of whom she looked around this foreign self's body and gaped as she saw her arms slung around the waists of Trish, Dallas, and… Cassidy? Wait so Cassidy wasn't just some talented slut from the Melody Diner who broke her best friends heart, she was her best friend.

Oh no.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry I haven't updated.**

**I'm a terrible person.**

**On with the show!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Ally's P.O.V.**

This can't be happening. I mean Cassidy Sumner… like _**the **_Cassidy Sumner. Not to be biased or anything, even though they haven't officially met in the real world, Cassidy was bitchy. She played Austin and dropped him with no warning. Bitch. I mean how could you possibly not want to go out with Austin. Have you seen him with his shirt off? I mean, **come on**! Well that and he was kind, caring, sincere, hilarious, loyal, and a fantastic performer, plus the kid was good at literally everything he did, well except songwriting, but in the other world Austin was progressing in the category, too.

But hey, if real world Ally hung out with her she couldn't be all bad. The real question was whether or not I would want to hang out with real world Ally. I shook my head and slowly hobbled to my personal bathroom in desperate need of shower. I put waterproof covers over my casts, unbandaged my torso, and threw said bandages in the trash. The doctor said they needed to be changed anyways. The entire time I didn't look in the mirror. I didn't want to see my disgusting, unclean, oily body, I could already feel and smell it. I didn't want to see my hair that was probably splitting like crazy. I didn't want to see this bruised and battered me until I was at least somewhat clean. I turned the shower on and stepped in closing the cheetah print curtain behind me. I just stood there wasting water for ten minutes soaking up the feeling of the scalding liquid running over my figure. I was gone for three months; I could waste a little water. I picked up the shampoo and used one hand to slather it into my hair. I washed it three times and then once more with conditioner. I shaved my legs and underarms, which at this point looked like they belonged to an ape. I then thoroughly scrubbed my body twice and rinsed off the last bits of soap before stepping out of the water and grabbing a towel.

I didn't put the towel on, though. I slowly stumbled over to my mirror with my eyes closed. I slowly opened them and saw what the accident had ravaged upon my body. It was actually better then I expected. No bruises, all of those had faded away in my three-month coma. My hair was longer then I remembered, but I didn't **truly** remember anything. Surprisingly there was no acne on my face. Take that raging teenage hormones! There was one small scar behind my ear, but it looked cute. I put the towel on and walked into my bedroom and slowly changed into my pajamas, black tank and red shorts, and sank blissfully into a deep sleep.

* * *

I was awoken by a knock on my bedroom. Turning, I saw the red numbers of my alarm clock blazing 3:14 p.m. I groggily mumbled a "come in" and watched as my door slowly swung open.

"ALLY!" my best friend, Trish, squealed. My face broke into a grin as the small Latina sprinted and lightly tackled me in my bed.

"Nice to see you, too Trish" I said somewhat sarcastically. On the inside I was ecstatic! Trish was the only person in this new world who hadn't changed one bit in the picture. Same wildly curly hair, outrageous outfits, and, hopefully, the same sassy personality. I'm just glad she's the first one I see, I don't wanna confront people who I barely know.

"Omigosh, how are you?" Trish said calming down.

"I'm better. The bruises and cuts have all faded, I'm just a little broken in places." She smiled at me.

"It's good to know you're feeling better. I've been so worried Ally."

"Trish can I tell you a secret? You can't tell anybody."

"Girl you know I got you." I laughed at my friend quoting Big Sean. Was that song still popular? Probably. It's Bieber after all.

"This life," I say gesturing to the wall of pictures, "I don't remember it. It's not like I don't have memories, they're just all fabricated. Figments of my imagination." I then proceeded to tell her all about this other life that had been conjured in my comatose state. I described in excruciating detail about how we met the boys, all our adventures, who I knew Cassidy and Dallas to be, even my family situation. After about an hour I stopped talking, just now realizing that Trish had never paid attention without talking for that long.

"Trish?" I was worried now.

"Want me to explain to you this life?"

"Sure."

"Our friendship was like you said up to the point of the whole Austin and Dez thing, and I'll explain those two later. Around the time that you said those boys came into our lives, is when Cass came in." So I've known Cassidy for like a year and a half now. "She turned our lives upside down, we met her at the Melody one day, she was new at school so we showed her around and stuff. She quickly became the most popular girl in school, dragging us to the top along with her. I think it was good for you a way. You were more confident started dressing like a normal human being, in my opinion, and you scored Dallas, who is basically the same as you described him, though he's doing his hair differently now." Okay, that seems logical enough. My life wasn't as different minus the whole parents thing. Only a year and a half seemed to be different in my mind. "As for Austin Moon and Dez Worthy," at this she sighed. "Well they're not at all like you described them, well maybe a little. You see Austin is a bit of a bad boy." I glanced to the sophomore class trip picture. A bad boy in a cardigan? This was when I interrupted her.

"Trish what about that picture?" I said gesturing to it. She hopped up from the bed and walked over to the picture.

"Ally were you wearing your glasses or contacts when you were looking at this." Oops. Hadn't thought of that one.

"No," I replied.

"Here," she said handing me my glasses from my dresser and the picture. I put my glasses on and looked at the picture again. Yeah, I definitely got that wrong. The blond boy in the picture may have Austin's build and hair color, but the face was completely wrong, the same goes for Dez. Both of whom I couldn't seem to find.

"So…where are they?" I asked, eyes meticulously searching for my long lost friends. Trish pointed at the picture and my eyes widened a tad. Although the boy in the picture dressed a little more like Austin, it was all too rebellious. Normally Austin was decked out in some colorful clothes accentuated his lickable muscles, matched his personality, and made his eyes pop. Wow Ally get a grip on yourself, you need to think straight. Here he and Dez stood decked in black. Leather jackets; vintage band shirts with naked girls, bleeding hearts, and patterns drawn by somebody who was obviously stoned; tight black skinny jeans; and combat boots. Austin all but burned holes into the lens of the camera and Dez looked completely indifferent in front of the classic school picture from Disney World. I didn't see the same gleam in Austin's eyes; this one was more hate-filled and sexual than happy-go-lucky and bright. Dez looked a little more like Dez just not a smiling Dez. I sighed and looked at Trish.

"So tell me about them. What are they like in the real world?" I asked.

"Well Austin, like I said, is a bad boy. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Dez is his best friend and right hand man. He's kinda quirky like you described but more in a spacey way and less in that chipmunk you wanna kill way. Dez mostly just lays low kinda more of a protector over Austin. Ya know, to drive him home when he's drunk. He's actually really smart, too. I think it's because he just observes everything all the time. He's kinda cute, too not that I like him or anything just an opinionated observation," said Trish, who started to ramble and mumble towards the end. I guess in this world Trish likes Dez, too. Then I noticed my eyes were drooping and Trish was still talking, I wasn't paying much attention anymore so when she took a breath I interrupted.

"Hey Trish, I'm getting kinda tired. Do you think we can continue this Monday?"

"Monday? As in you're coming to school Monday?"

"Yeah, I feel good. No use getting further behind than I already am. Besides I'll have the five days to rest up."

"Okay, Ally. I'll see you Monday!" She lightly hugged me and left.

* * *

The next five days progressed slowly. Mostly sleeping and getting school work done. I was exempt from final exams and third quarter work since the grades already came out, so I had about a month and a half of work to do. Joy.

* * *

I was awoken Monday morning to see my clock shining a brilliant 5:30 am and beeping incessantly. I quickly lifted my aching arm and shut off the terrible noise. First day of school. Yay. I quickly showered and got dressed, somewhat of a combination between old Ally and new Ally and, unfortunately, the most conservative thing this Ally owns. It was a royal blue lycra skirt that stopped mid-thigh and clung to my body in all the right places, I tucked in a simple white ribbed tank and threw a grey cropped tweed blazer with ¾ sleeves over and put on **a** black ballet flat.

My mom called me down stairs, I quickly ate, got in the car and had my mother drive me there, I couldn't drive for six months. When I got to school I took a deep breath, thanked my mother, and got out of the car.

Immediately I heard whispers. Always catching my name rolling off of my classmates' tongues. Evidently me coming back was a big deal. My eyes wandered around looking for anything familiar. I saw a flash of bleach blond hair and almost called his name, but thought better of it. He didn't know me well in this life. I heard Trish and spun to view the oncoming Latina. She smiled as she approached.

"How does it feel?"

"Different. I don't know, it's too early to tell."

"Okay. Do you remember your locker stuff and schedule?" I recited the schedule, combination, and locker number my subconscious created.

"That's right! Omigosh Ally is your memory coming back?"

"No. That's what my _other_ combination was."

"Oh well. I gotta go to my locker, don't wanna be late to Hesler," she shuddered. I remember that lady and if she was like I imagined I see why Trish wouldn't want to be late.

"Okay, we'll talk at lunch!" I turned and walked into the school, eyes constantly following me everywhere. I slowly trekked to my locker and when I got there my jaw dropped and my eyes popped out of my skull.

There. Pressed up against my locker. _**My**_ locker. Were Cassidy and Austin making out.

Oh no.

* * *

**Next chapter is Austin's P.O.V. guys. Get excited!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Time for Austin's P.O.V.!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Austin's P.O.V.**

Passionate. Vigorous. Tongue. Wet. Sloppy. These were thoughts that were rolling through my mind as I had Cassidy, my girlfriend, pressed up against my locker. Well, we started at my locker at least. Cassidy and I have been together for over a month now and we still haven't done it. I don't know if I'll be able to keep this up if it doesn't lead to some benefits. I mean, Cassidy's nice and all, but she is one of the worst fucking kissers ever. And I've kissed a lot of girls. Oh who I am kidding, she's not even that fucking nice. She's just a really popular, hot bitch. Good for my reputation. My image. Can't be a bad boy without getting the hottest girls. Is it really worth it, though? I don't know. I'm losing air. I pull away from Cassidy and rest my forehead against hers. I give her a smoldering look that makes her giggle and avert her eyes. Then she screams. No Cassidy. I most certainly did not need my hearing. Thanks for asking.

She continues squealing annoyingly and attacks a petite brunette in a hug. The girl Cassidy's hugging seems uncomfortable and awkward and a little bit pained. I look down slightly to see that Cassidy was squishing the poor girls broken arm at an awkward angle. I tentatively approach the pair and peel my girlfriend off of her pretty companion. Cassidy is the first to speak.

"Ah! Ally! How are you? Trish told me you were coming back today! How are you feeling?" Wait. Ally? As in Ally Dawson? Didn't she get hit by a car a while back? Is she just coming back now? Holy shit. It must've been a pretty hard hit. And she survived? Bad ass. She looks stunning. Even with a huge scar on her forehead and some casts and splints. I don't think I've really met her. Sober at least. Who knows what goes on at those parties. I concentrate back to the conversation at hand. Or lack thereof.

"Uh, hi. Nice to see you again Cassidy." She turns to me, "Austin." When she says my name something flashes through her eyes. I don't know what it is. I glance at Cassidy and can tell this isn't the kind of greeting she was expecting. Ally quickly walks around us and to her locker, which is coincidentally next to mine. I swagger over to my locker and lean my elbow against it.

"Looks like were neighbors," I say smoothly as I giver her my panty dropping look I give all the hot girls. She barely glances over at me as she puts her books into a zebra and hot pink backpack.

"Yup." Okay. Does she not know who she's talking to? I'm Austin fucking Moon. Every girl in this school falls at my feet if I wink in their general direction. She is barely even giving me the time of day. And I don't like it one bit.

"Do you remember me? It looks like you hit your head pretty hard," I say as a lightly brush my thumb over the scar that goes from her crown to her forehead. Her eyes connect to mine as my finger dances lightly over her skin. I see anguish. Fear. Humor? She bursts out laughing. Clutching her sides and doubling over, then wincing in pain. She probably hurt her ribs, too. She goes upright wiping away a stray tear of mirth.

"I'm sorry Blondie. Inside joke. You're different from what I remember," she says. Blondie. I kinda like that nickname. But, only because it's coming out of her delectable lips.

"Different how?"

"Oh I can't tell you that now can I? It'd ruin all the fun." She's feisty. I like it.

"Oh come on. I can keep a secret!"

"You've never been able to keep anything I tell you a secret. You always go blabbing to Dez." Wait. What?

"How would you know?" The humor immediately drops from her eyes and she pales just a shade.

"Um.. Uh. I—"

"What're you two talking about?" Cassidy interrupts. Relief washes over Ally's face.

"Oh nothing. I've got to get to class. Bye!" With this she slams her locker and speed walks down the hall. That was my first conversation with Ally Dawson and I can't help but want to get to know her better. A lot better.

* * *

**Ally's P.O.V.**

That was way too close. I really have to check myself before I wreck myself. He probably thinks I'm super weird now. Like a stalker or something. I know it seems strange to want to rekindle my relationships with Austin and Dez, but I do.

I should probably just move on. Pretend that my other life was just a dream. But it's the only life I know. And if I can recreate that life here, then why not? I have to at least try. I gotta give it my all. And if it doesn't work out in the end, then so be it? But I'll never know if I don't try. I come out of my stupor and see Dez at his locker. He closes it, turns, and walks right into me. The books I'm carrying tumble to the ground.

"Sorry," he says noncommittally. He bends down to pick up my books and looks up at me. "Are you gonna help or am I gonna have to do this all by myself?"

"Sorry, my ribs are still a little broken." At this he picks up the last book and stretches to his full height.

"Oh, aren't you that chick that got hit my a truck or something?"

"From what I'm told, yes." He laughs at this, but I keep a straight face. He notices this and stops smiling, calming down.

"You're serious?"

"Dez… can I tell you a secret?"

"You hardly know me."

"I trust you."

"Why?"

"That's part of what I'm trying to tell you." Dez looks at me as a sign to continue, "Okay. You can't tell anyone this but, I don't remember anything before the accident." Dez's eyes soften a bit at this. "Well at least nothing I remember seems to be real. In the life I remember you, Austin, Trish, and I were best friends."

"Trish de la Rosa?"

"Yeah."

"She's a cutie." I smirk a little at this. But, now's not the time to be playing matchmaker.

"Basically what happened is that I wrote a song that Austin then stole. He sang in a video you directed, which was phenomenal. He became an overnight sensation and the outcome was Team Austin. Austin as the performer, me as his songwriter, Trish as his manager, and you as his video director. We later got a record deal and Austin was famous. Last I remember it was Valentine's Day and you, Trish, Austin, and I went on a sort of double friend date thing. Does what I'm saying make any sense?"

"I believe you Ally."

"Do you really?"

"Yeah, that other life actually sounds kind of fun. However much fun _**this**_ life style appears to be, it's not. But I do have a few questions?"

"Shoot."

"Who was my date for Valentine's Day."

"Trish."

"Awesome. Um where do Dallas and Cassidy come in? Since they're both big part of you're life."

"Well Cassidy was a bitch in my other life."

"That much hasn't changed." I giggled a bit at this. I missed Dez. "And Dallas?"

"I had a crush on him at one point, nothing really beyond that. From what I've been told he's basically the same."

"Speak of the devil," says Dez. At that remark I see Dez looking past me and I turn around to see Dallas walking down the hallway and smiling at me.

Oh no.

* * *

**And so the plot thickens.**


End file.
